Reality
by The Cwtched Cat
Summary: (Slash, James and Severus) A surge of reality to James Potter as he realizes that actions have consequences, taunting is destructive and Snape is more human then he could have ever imagined. (contains attempted suicide and swearing)
1. Chapter 1

A quiet lay within that room. A stale unmoving quiet that seemed to taint the air, making it thick. And as it moved down his throat, closing ever passage, space; it passed silently into his lungs, seizing them into hard brutal organs, the air thickly pushing all space away, out; like respiration was never necessary again.

James Potter sat like this. His head chocking, clogging, from the tickly air within. But nothing worked, nothing functioned. Lungs, brain; he was just a body, ridged in his seat as he sat so still before Professor Mcgonagall.

"How long have you been taunting Mr Snape, Mr Potter?"

James moving his hand to his hair line, a habit, a comforting reminder of a time before this meeting, before… James almost chocked, hand in hair unable to ruffle.

"I don't know, Professor, first year I think… I thi-… please I'm so sorry I'm really sorry."

James could feel his breath jammed in his throat, unable to reach his mouth, suffocating, dizzying, it didn't happen, it did not happen, it never… no it didn't… please no… it didn't happen

"James breath. James look at me force it James. Breath in James!"

James breathed out in almost a cough. But it held in his chest again. Every breath held unable to breath then a cough. But every breath James lessened the cough. Every held breath less. Until he breathed, shallow but breathing constantly. The air around James less dense, his lungs free enough to breath from the hard air that once was within them. His mind still carrying a dizzy edge to his skull. He looked up. Professor Mcgonagall beside him.

She stood up straight again. Turning she moved back to her desk again, this time however facing away. James could see those fingers tap, slowly. Tap. Tap. Tap.

With a sudden stark turn of her frame she looked down at James. "Mr Potter. You are not a bad person. On the contrary a bad person would revel in this. If your persistent bullying, yes Mr Potter bullying, was trying to hurt Mr Snape then… you're guilt shows you as a good man Mr Potter. You're actions leading to said guilt not so but you're guilt is still an important aspect to consider. Mr Potter, what has happened you cannot change but what you can change is what will happen. Never let what has happened today happen again through your actions. And most importantly, it was not your fault. It was his choose but do not make him feel he has to make that choose again by your hostility. Do not blame yourself but better yourself. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes Professor."

"You may leave James."

Rising, James looked beyond the window into the dark grounds. That image from an hour before. Like a picture clasped to his mind, never unhooking itself.

Leaving the Professor's office he passed silently into the dark corridor, the shadows almost like the now dark lake, silently moving its course as its banks looked out into the grounds to that nearby tree.

And as he reached the stairs leading up toward the common room his mind shifted to the hospital wing as Snape's breathes now came in raspses as he lay in a fitful sleep, slowly growing stronger as each potion and spell aided his lungs and throat.

And as James reached the portrait of the fat Lady, James stared at the figure of the woman sat before him as she looked back, asking for a password. But James did not hear, he did not see the Fat Lady. All he could hear were the branches strain and the swish of body on rope. All he could see was the black figure of Snape, like a rag doll, so fragile, as he hung limp and still. It now seemed only a minute away from ever beyond saving.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Sirius in the lead, he entered the great hall. His short glossy black hair swishing as he looked up and down the great hall.

"Seriously! Where the hell's Prongs?"

"Is he not here either?" As that comment fell from Remus's lips Sirius glanced toward his friend, annoyance etched upon those handsome features. "No Moony, of course he's in here. What made you think otherwise?"

"Oh where is he?" Peter edging himself in front of Sirius, getting a view of the Gryffindor table.

"Oh for fuck's sake Peter! It's called being sarcastic! Are you really that fucking stupid!"

Sirius, without a sentence explained, turned from the two walking with such force it was almost like watching a wasp as it buzzed with animosity away into the school grounds beyond the entrance hall.

Remus and Peter stood silent for a moment before "What the hell's up with Padfoot, Mooney?"

Remus sighed. A deep resounding sigh. Reaching with a hand outstretched he pulled Peter away as he began to walk to the Gryffindor table.

"Something's happened Peter." Peter looked toward Remus then. His face carving confusion. "How do you know that?"

"Well," the two had reached the table now and had sat down. Remus looked calmly around there section; finally happy the convocation would remain private Remus looked at Peter, his voice an ounce of the volume it originally resounded with. "Remember Prongs left his Transfiguration book under our tree yesterday?"

"Yeah."

"And when he realised that evening after days of hard core procrastination about that homework for tomorrow-"

"Today."

"Thanks Peter, today now. Anyway, so he went out late in his clock to get it so he could quickly do it last minute as per usual."

"And he didn't come back yeah."

"Yeah Wormtail but he wasn't in his bed this morning either was he."

"But that's normal James."

Remus smiled at that. "Yeah it's normal James but Sirius wasn't with him was he. That is weird."

"So Sirius is annoyed?"

"No, Sirius is worried. He's worried something's happened to Prong's. Don't take it to heart when he snaps ok Wormtail. He's just on edge at the moment and he won't be happy until he's found James safe again."

Peter sighed, an annoyed sigh turning to Remus with a cross of the arms. "I'm not being funny but I didn't even hear you're convocation at the door back there. I was behind you so I didn't even deserve what Sirius said. He doesn't have to get all his anger out on me."

"I know Wormy, just chill. He was just frustrated because we couldn't help him find his James."

"Who's lost James?"

The two Marauders turned, their focuses landing upon Alice who sat expectantly, toast perched in mouth.

"Sirius."

"Sirius lost James!" Alice said with a joke cough of horror. "But what will he ever do?"

"Not get expelled." Lily quipped, grinning into her porridge as she perched next to Alice.

"But Lil!" Alice suddenly sounding stricken with mock anguish. "Wasn't it written by the Gods of old! 'When Black and Potter part their ways; the world will crumble, it shall never sustain.'"

Lily chocked loudly on the porridge in her mouth. Remus giving an irritated glance toward Peter as the girl's convocation continued.

"Oh my god!" Lily laughed, finally the porridge having been somewhat digested. "That's why they always get into detention together. If one goes and the other doesn't then the forces of nature will break and the world will crumble into the vortex of a never ending vacuum."

"See it's all making sense now isn't it. Wow, for all this time we thought they were just arrogant twats but now we've found… they're just two good guys locked in this never ending cycle to keep the world stable and safe forever."

"Bless their cotton socks."

"Bless each and every pair."

"His book was still by the tree."

All four turned in their seats to see a stressed Sirius behind. His uneasiness almost made him look like a boy who was about to push his way onto their table and shout for attention of the school to the whereabouts of his friend.

Sirius started waving the Transfiguration book in Remus's face. "He didn't even get it Moony! What the hell? What the actual hell?"

"Hay, Padfoot, calm down ok. He'll be fine just sit down and have something for breakfast. You'll feel better."

Sirius sat. Tapping his face he just stared at the plate of bacon before him as if hoping it would have the answers.

"Hay, Padfoot." Remus tapping Sirius's shoulder as he spoke. "Prong's goes off all the time."

"No Remus!" Sirius turned, the suppressed anxiety appearing in the form of anger. "He goes out all the time with _me_. He always takes me. Always Moony. And if he doesn't then he tells me where he's going and he doesn't fuck off and do something else. He just doesn't. I know James. And we've looked and looked and he's fucking nowhere. Re, he's fucking gone and I can't find him I'm seriously worried."

The two girls were looking over once more, this time however with the addition of worry.

"It'll be ok Si." Alice said leaning over her eggs. "He's probably fallen asleep in a deserted corridor from doing that Transfiguration homework we had to do by today. I know I was semi-conscious by the end of that."

"Yeah Sirius." Lily leaning even further over her porridge to try and see around Alice's head. "You'll probably just wander into your next detention and find him already in there."

"They're right." Remus said turning toward Sirius once more, surprisingly. "He's probably being told off now because he was found out of bounds fast asleep using a priceless portrait of Merlin or something as a pillow. He'll turn up in a minute swearing about how Filtch tried to strangle him or something."

"But Mooney, it's just not like him."

"Where's Severus?"

Sirius jumped like Lily's words had physically taken their Defence Against the Dark Arts project on Vampires and smacked him across the head.

"Where's Severus!" A tornado would have been less ferocious then Sirius's anger. "Snivellus! Snivellus of all people! While James is fuck knows where you're sat there with your fucking porridge crying about some hooked nose, greasy, wannabe death eater who can't even eat a carrot without thinking how best he could efficiently kill a muggle born when he's taking over the world with you-know-who!"

"For fuck's sake Black I just thought out loud."

"I don't know what James sees in you! You're an ugly little bitch whose only wish is to be cummed on by some fuck up of a Slytherin. Even Salazar would have vomited knowing Snivellus got in his house."

"Black! That is too far!" Lily looked like she was about to transfigure into a dragon. "He is my friend and like any decent person I respect and stand up for him."

"_Respect_! What are you even Lily."

"I am someone who tries to be nice to everyone."

"Yeah," Alice suddenly poking her head back into the convocation. "Lily's sees the good in everyone so leave her alone."

"Yeah she does see the good you're right. She's probably got a charity box going trying to raise enough money to bake cakes to send off to poor misunderstood you-know-who. 'He-who-must-not-be-named; please don't make him feel so ashamed.'"

"Oh my god I-"

"He Lily is a masturbating, pathetic, prostrating piece of worthless shit whose only ambition is to get you-know-who to colour in his forearm with pretty patterns of snakes and skulls."

"Sirius!" But it was Remus that had spoken. Sirius glanced over as his friend tilted his head to the approaching Professor Mcgonagall.

"Ah fuck! This is probably about when I jinxed those third years."

Their professor looked down at the group of Gryffindor's gazing up at her with different assortments of food dangling dangerously in each mouth. She then turned directly toward Sirius. "A moment please in private Sirius." She turned then making for the entrance hall at a dignified yet high pace.

An angry sigh within Sirius's frame, he rose and followed thinking of every possible excuse to get out of said detention, he did not feel like wasting time when James was still unfound.

Yet the true reason that the professor lead him away from eager ears had lead James himself away from his dorm, his friends and house mates. It had led him to need isolation as he turned on his heels at the entrance to his common room and lead him instead to pace the corridors under his invisibility cloak to finally do what he never thought possible. He journeyed to the hospital wing in the hopes to check that Severus Snape was fine.


	3. Chapter 3

I just want to say thank you so much for reading this far. I appreciate it so much yay :D

Chapter 3

The hospital wing was quiet, dark in those late hours as James arrived. Apprehension as he moved forward beneath his invisibility clock. His eyes drifting toward the clock above the office door by which Madman Pomfrey occupied. Stating with its ever moving hands that it was two forty three, James shuddered. He couldn't help but look at the second hand as it kept moving and moving. Time was so important, so fragile, so necessary. Everything depended upon it. It was the difference between life and death. It was the difference between saving and losing someone that James only ever considered an object of ridicule.

James looked, with a sudden jolt at that thought, down the ward toward that very victim. Severus Snape was waking.

He looked so confused as his being stirred. A cough, a horrific cough shaking James's being as well as Snape's own. James could hear the air chocked in his lungs unable to escape through his damaged windpipe. But Snape's eyes were focusing. Moving toward the ceiling, toward the bedside table then toward the bed he lay upon. But for every action, every glance, it felt like a claw digging deep into James's chest. Scoring marks because Snape; he looked so very inhumanly fragile.

Snape's shaky hand, moving up toward his throat. And as he did this, as he touched the marks made by that rope; his face had broken from the barrier, the mask, the sneer, the independence, the hatred. And when that barrier left, when it was gone from the existence of his being, all that was left was a sight so disturbing to that happy, well-loved James Potter.

Snape was broken. There was so much shattering pain. Pain James never thought possible. Never thought could be true. Soul disturbing pain. And at that moment, James finally understood why Snape had tried to take that pain away.

"Why?" James looked up as Snape spoke. So shaken that word, so wrong. No human should ever have to say that word as Snape said it. "Oh my god no. Please, fuck, no. Why am I fucking here? No please I… no… oh my fucking god no…" But the rest of Severus Snape's words were lost in the gut wrenching, powerful but so true, tears. It was like he was wounded but so harrowingly worse, because the deep bleeding wounds were not physical.

Then Snape leapt up. Too fast. He fell crashing to the floor. James felt sickened at the sound that Snape's body made on the hard cold stone floor. Snape was so weak, he had to stay in bed.

Snape clawing himself up. Throwing up on the floor. Tears still tortured his face. His whole being disturbed by that pain. Then so quickly. So very quickly. He grabbed a pair of scissors on the bedside table next to him and stabbed into his arm.

"Oh my god!"

Snape's head shot up at the sound of James's cry. The two boys stood, so still in the hospital ward. But the blood trailing off Severus's arm was growing thicker and redder by every second.

As James let the cloak fall from his frame Snape's frame froze. His face turning, a jolted wheel of thought process, from fear to panic but finally landing upon rage.

His teeth bared, hints of a sneer, he almost clawed at his face to dispose of the tears. James stared at the sudden construction of a mask before him, the skill in which it was so quickly placed. The barrier seemed so ridged, so immobile. Yet so very distant from what was beneath.

Or was it? A mask fuelled by hatred yet the hatred fuelled by pain. A hatred from his life, from the Marauders but also a hatred fuelled by his own self-loathing. This agony contained in an outward seal of controlled simmering hostility.

"Potter! What a pleasant surprise to be greeted at such a moment by your arrogant and self-loving presence!" Snape's words almost spat from his mouth as James watched him desperately hide the torment that burned within him.

"Snape! Shut up you need help with your arm!"

"Oh, want to help me stab it in a little further?" Snape sneered offering said arm. James felt sick to look.

"Are you seriously hiding behind this mask thing you put on now of all times?"

"I'm only offering you to take some of the credit in killing me."

"Snape! I found you! I took you here! If I was a minute later you'd be fucking dead! I saved you're fucking life!"

Something flashed beneath those dark eyes but soon obscured by a far more profound sneer. "Being the hero are we Potter?"

James was silent, shocked by not just his words but this attitude. As if this meant nothing. As if trying to hang yourself or stab scissors into your arm was something of a norm.

"Snape this is fucked up! This is seriously fucked up! It's like you aren't even feeling! Oh my god there's so much blood!"

The blood just kept dripping and dripping. A pool forming like a sick lake, so richly crimson, and it dripped from his loose fingers, from the blood covering his arm like some kind of harrowing glove.

That blood was so real. How ever Snape tried to barricade himself with controlled sneers and insults, it did not take the fact now presented before James. Snape was human. The blood cloaking his arm acting as a more vivid reality to this human being that stood before James.

"Madam Pomfrey!" James shouted. Turning his head he stormed to the office door smashing it with his fist. "Madam Pomfrey! Emergency!"

A sound behind James. "Expelliarmus!"

The wand from Snape's hand flew across the ward from James's spell. "Accio wand!" James held out his hand catching Snape's wand. He then turned. Staring, eyes focused only on Snape. "You will not die!"

Madam Pomfrey tore out of the office, her eyes meeting with Snape's.

James watched in silence as Madam Pomfrey dealt with Snape. Snape never looked at either in the room. Just stared, eyes alive with an angry venom looking toward the ceiling.

"I will get a sleeping draught for you Mr Snape. You will be able then to have a good restful sleep without… getting carried away." Snape's eyes flashed at Madam Pomfrey's words. For once James agreed with Snape. Trying to end your life was more than just 'getting carried away'. A fury began within James from that moment.

And as she left, Snape for the first time since she entered, looked up through his dark greasy hair toward James Potter before him. A face of deepest hatred.

"You Potter!" Spitting, his face so disfigured from the hate. "You pompous, glory loving Gryffindor! You are not a hero!" He had risen from his bed. Striding forward. His face seeming with anger.

Snape reached James, his face glowering as he stood inches in front of the others features. James stood taller, prouder, looking toward the other. "You should be fucking thankful."

And that was when Severus Snape punched James Potter.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"Now are you quite sure you will be able to attend charms, Mr Potter?"

James's exasperation was reaching levels only a fitful night's sleep could have ever achieved. With a hand arching a path to his own forehead he muttered a small "Yes Madam Pomfrey. I'll be fine thanks." Which seemed slightly too expressive of the irritation he felt.

"Hmm, yes the bruising has defiantly healed. Right then Mr Potter, you may leave."

With a small smile that resembled a far better grimace James left her office allowing the door to swing back into its privating position.

It was something that James had not intended to do was to stay longer then the few strides across the ward floor. He looked up at the door far ahead of him as he stood, positioned at the office door. The flit of chatter, a corridor embodied with life, muffled in the silence of this almost deserted rectangular room; almost grey in contrast with what lay beyond those walls. Other worldly.

It was something James had never experienced in room before. This grey tinge to the ward as the happy world beyond only gave this dulled light within. But the world wasn't bright and dark, nor good and evil. It was grey. James glanced toward Severus's bed.

He lay still. A relaxed nature to that very frame. And as James approached, each step taking in more of those features, James saw something so remarkably unlike the Snape had he known. Snape was free.

James glanced to the empty sleeping draught propped up on his bedside table. Dreamless, thoughtless, free. Synonyms to Severus Snape.

James's eyes travelled back to the sleeping form. His face looked so different without the mask or, as James had seen, what was beneath the mask. Every feature relaxed, still. There was no contortion, no hatred. There was just a face. Wordless, motiveless; only skin, untainted by the world around, to lie peacefully upon Severus's bones, muscles, blood. And James found a hope within him that even startled himself. A hope that asked for Severus to dream like this but without need of a potion.

And closer James came still. His eyes settling further upon Severus's pale features. Sudden realisation that James found his arm crossing his body, his hand finding a place upon his other upper arm. He released instantly. So uncommon for James to need to find comfort in such a low and insecure place.

The embarrassment of finding himself there flitted away as he looked once more onto those chalk white features. A pale so white held its place upon Severus's face. But that lank hair, as it lay mangled and dirty over his expression, it did something to that pale.

For every lock a shadow lay alongside it. A deep almost black grey moving toward a soft pale dash of off white. It blended his face. Created not just from the hair draped over his face but from his nose, lips, eyes, jaw; all blending the edges, all forming a human, all creating depth. It was real to have shading.

James smiled as he gazed down. A hand mindlessly playing with his own hair. The ward wasn't so dark, so foreboding, anymore. And as James puffed up his fringe he knew he didn't need to find light anymore because at the corners of even the darkest places, there was still light that touched turning black to grey, even if that grey was almost lost and indistinguishable at the edge of that darkness.

And as James filtered his way upon the top of his head he thought, with a smile, that Severus almost looked…

The doors of the hospital wing sprung open causing three Ravenclaw girls to suddenly jump. The figure of James Potter stormed through, a fury upon his face so vivid the girls stepped toward the opposite wall a few paces then necessary to allow him through. With a stride he was away, down the corridor, the comments of one girl almost unrecognizable as she said to her friends "O, calm down, it's not the end of the world if you're late for class."

Down corridor, through corridor, past corridor James strode looking at nowhere, thinking of nothing as he sped toward Charms.

James quickened his pace more with every minute past trying to make distance with that ward. He only had the vague recognition that students were filing to the very edges of the corridors around him, looking with anxious stares to the furious boy striding before them.

Skipping steps, taking short cuts, James found himself outside his Charms room and with the extraction of thought rooted in his being he entered and sat at his seat without even a glance to the classroom around him.

James sat still, staring down at his desk intent on nothing, until he heard Sirius's voice from beside him. Looking up, the sudden realisation that seven pairs of eyes were staring toward him.

An "Um…" escaped from James's mouth as he looked round toward Sirius, Remus, Peter, Lily, Alice and Mary all gazing with apprehension as well as interest.

"I said mate what's up with you?" James turned to Sirius as he spoke. His normal jokey laugh was slightly more worried in tone. "Is it the whole Snape thing?"

James turned suddenly toward Sirius. "What?"

Sirius jumped slightly, evidently shock. "Um, like the whole trying to…"he finished said sentence off with a nodding and an expression that spoke the words clearly 'you know'.

James sighed a relief. Sirius was referring to Snape trying to commit suicide and not…

"Yeah yeah. How do you know?"

"Professor Mcgonagall told me. No one else except the teachers know and these two." Sirius pointed a thump to the other Marauders who were sat quietly beside them.

James glanced up toward the girls in the row in front and with a wave of a hand "Fuck off we're talking."

"Oh for fuck's sake." James heard the voice of Alice as the girls turned around back to the front of the class.

"So," Sirius's voice resounded volumes lower than his normal tones. "When Professor Mcgonagall said she'd already seen you last night about it I realised you were fine then as there was a reason for you being gone."

James looked toward every one of his friends intent expressions. A frustration of this tedious convocation was beginning to form within James. With stance held stiff he looked ahead toward an open window, not trusting himself to make eye contact with his friends. There was a server amount of strain that had needed to be released and an argument in a charms class was not a strain releasing option.

"After I went out to get my book I…" The casual yet annoyed tone with which James spoke suddenly staggered to a stop. The image of Snape…

"You found him?" James glanced toward Remus, a shake in his friends voice had caused James to look at Remus directly. Remus's expression was painted with a disconcertion. James looked at those eyes in what seemed like the first time in his life. And there James noticed the rays of emotion. Remus seemed disturbed.

"So, when you found Snivellus topping himself?" There was a flash in Remus's eyes as Sirius announced this statement so casually and blatantly. Remus said nothing however. He stayed sat quietly and James wondered as he began to actually look and think about these changes beneath Remus's expressions, he wondered how very much he had missed over the years. How much had really been going on as the world had flitted.

James looked back out at the open window trying to keep his emotions of annoyance contained for the rest of that convocation. "Well, I got him down, took him to the hospital ward and Madam Pomfrey looked after him."

"Will he be alright?" James looked again toward Remus. It acted as an almost dysfunction to James's mind as he begun to realise how much care and concern Remus had for others. This nature in Remus, James knowing it must have always been present, yet it was like looking to a knew person rather than his Mooney.

"Yeah yeah he'll be fine Mooney. Anyway," James trying to rectify some form of dignity in his tone, "so then Mcgonagall and Slughorn came and Mcgonagall took me to her office and asked me about it."

"Did she say you couldn't tell anyone either?" James nodded at Sirius's comment. Sirius was starting to look as angered as James had been when he had first entered the classroom. "I'm not being funny," Sirius began, a tone of indignation, "but people should know. I mean if he's going to try and top himself then people should be warned. See if they find him then, like you did for instance, they won't get so upset. I mean what if he tries to jump off one of the towers or stab himself with I don't know a quill." James thought about the blood from the scissors.

"Anyway," Sirius continued in that casual uncaring manner, "Mcgonagall can't have been that pissed off to keep you all night. Why didn't you go back to the common room?"

James suddenly looked at the boys around him. The realisation begun to settle, like stones that had been propelled to skim across a lake to then finally fall into the waters of reality. All he had done after that, especially making sure Snape was fine, it was all so humiliating. Especially now, afterwards, when the day was bright and the world was fine.

"I needed a walk."

Remus nodded understandingly however Sirius's features were in the formation of bewilderment.

"What you mean 'needed a walk'?"

A gleam of exasperation in Remus's eyes after that statement. James could not help but smile. Remus really was a caring and companionate human being.

"Well, like," James turned to Sirius as he began his awkward answer. "Seeing someone try to kill themselves is very…" harrowing, disturbing, stressful, distraught ridden, traumatic "weird." James looked toward Sirius then repeated again "weird". Sirius began to nod with him. "Ah, I get you mate. It's selfish of Snivellus to make you see that to be honest."

"Anyway," James began once more trying to ignore the feeling that had begun to spread though his existence. "yeah so I thought I'd…" James then became very aware of the embarrassment of the very next thing he had done.

"I'm guessing you made sure Snape was alright then?"

James suddenly felt himself lift with joy as Remus said those words. He spoke as if doing such a thing was nothing, like seeing Snape was the obvious thing to do, the good thing to do. And James saw the look in Remus's eyes, the understanding. Remus knew what he had done and had helped James rectify his pride and status. Remus Lupin did, very loyally, go beyond what was needed for his friendship and tried hard by the own goodness of his heart to help. Only now did James realise and appreciate his very thoughtful friend.

"So what he say?" Sirius asked, without even the batter of an eyelid in show of distain on this matter.

"He punched me." James announced blocking that scene he had seen seconds before.

"That piece of shit!" Sirius was beginning to whirl with unsettled winds within him. "Like after you saved him and everything he fucking punches you! That selfish, disrespectful, inconsiderate bastered! Should have left him to rot if that's the thanks he gives."

"Anyway," James continued trying to ignore the fury building within his friend. "Madam Pomfrey gave me some cream for the bruise but I still didn't want to go up to the common room. She offered for me to sleep in her office because she was worried that if Snape woke up again he'd attack me. Yeah anyway I'm here now so yeah. End of story."

Sirius shook his head, a smile playing upon his lips even though the anger from before was still evident. "And I was worried as fuck about you. Hah!"

"He really was." Remus smiled slightly, a glance toward Sirius. "He knew something really bad must have happened."

"Haha, thank fuck it wasn't that bad." Sirius began to grin again, his features still tainted but only a slight trace of anger was left.

"Right, now collect all the equipment you have been using and please take them to the front." Professor Flitwick announced over the noise of what was meant to be a lesson dedicated to practising the summoning spell.

James looked about him with a slight shock to these surroundings and the movement of chairs and students as they took their things back to the front of the room where Professor Flitwick was collecting the objects in a large box almost twice as large as himself.

Remus was collecting there items; stacking quills, pillows, rulers, one on top of the other. "Ah, James could you help a sec."

James could see very clearly Remus did not need help. On the contrary he looked like he could carry the rest of the equipment he had left on the table and even far greater amounts. James though picked up the rest, moving with him to the front of the class. James looked toward his friend as they walked as a feeling grew within himself that maybe… maybe Remus had seen more than the others had in his story.

"Listen Re, I don't wanna talk about Snivellus."

"I wasn't going to." He looked up surprised "I was just gonna say… you told Lily to fuck off."

James stopped. He looked at Remus. Turned to see Lily drawing on her friend's hand. Back to Remus. Then again to Lily. Finally he looked at Remus. "I… I must have forgotten I fancy her."

James could tell Remus was trying exceedingly hard to not let the chuckle he was supressing escape those lips. "Oh James." He said shaking his head with that smile of his. A smile that lit up his features as the light from the room cast a sparkled glow on his cheeks.

Too endearing for James not to smile himself. And with a smile and nod James knew; it's the shades, the shadows that make us human but it is the light that makes us alive.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"Hay Evans, just a thought, the next Hogsmeade trip is coming up and of course people have asked me to go with them but…" James sighed, a fake exasperated sigh, "I was thinking that perhaps you could do me the honour." James, with a half-smile, leaned further on hand supporting his jaw.

The answer was clear before Lily even begun her sentence. "Potter, if I wanted to go on a date then I don't think it would be very wise to spend it with you. You see I can only bring so much hand sanitizer with me at one time."

A small chuckle escaped the curtains of black hair that draped across a Transfiguration essay placed unpleasantly close in proximity to the Lily sat in the library on her chair opposite James leaning over a chair staring directly toward Lily and eyes not moving to those black curtains precisely next to her with his nose almost touching the parchment as his eyes reading along the top line of his sentence and his fingers…

"James?"

James jumped at the sound of his name. Looking toward said speaker Lily was staring, complexion complexed.

James, then realising that he wouldn't have ignored Snape after that laughter glared at Snape, then, realising he had glared too late, then glared at Lily.

"Own loss." James said, trying to sound as if his ego lay untroubled. "If you change your mind you know where to find me ok gorgeous."

"Dammit Potter, thank fuck you told me." Lily droned as if the sarcasm was cascading off her like a broken quill, "I wouldn't wanna miss out. Oh, oh, oh, do you have cards? You know; with your name, address and occupation 'Majestic arrogant arse-hole'."

"Snape I swear to god if you don't stop laughing to yourself behind that rag of hair I will fucking jink you so fucking badly that not even Madam Pomfrey will be able to fucking it sort out!"

Lily's face suddenly stilled. "Don't you talk to Sev like that." She said so quickly but with such precision it was as if her diction was trying to flick James in the face.

James laughed at those now darkened eyes with his now own darkened voice.

Snape, however, spoke before James could flick back his own reply. "Don't worry Lil's, don't stress over me."

James turned to the still curtained in work Snape and with a spit of words resonant within its sound James said "She's only trying to help. I mean we don't want you trying to kill yourself again do we?"

Lily stood.

"What did you just say Potter?" Her voice grating as if stones crunching together, eroding the edges of the other, the force leaving only dust as a figment of the once rock.

"I'm only deeply concerned about him you see." James whined too forceful and arrogant to be anything other than that snide taunt.

"Don't you even fucking dare say-"

"You hear that Snivy? So worthless you have to get others to fucking talk for you." James still stared toward Lily with every word he spoke. "Poor poor pathetic Snivy. How humiliating for you, a death eater wannabe having to paw at the legs of a muggle born. Don't worry dear sweet Snivy one day you'll get your oh great and powerful master to stop this mortifying scenario. You make me sick Snivy! Clambering on anyone even if you see them degrading to wizards and witches. You know there's nothing wrong with muggle borns or muggles! And yet, you disgusting piece of shit, hypocrite, that's what you fucking are! And what's worse? You know you are and you aren't doing anything about it. What are you going to do when you're off killing muggle borns with your master? 'No, please don't they didn't do anything'. Hah! No you piece of shit you'll let them die 'cause that's what you think is right in your little messed up brain of yours! And here you are! In the safety of Hogwarts, sitting happily next to a muggle born like your ambitions mean nothing on your friendship! Well, here's something. In the end. When it comes to it. We on the side of the light will be strong. Standing as brothers and sisters might. But you, oh you. Your friendship will mean nothing in the end. Friendship with your wannabe death eater buddies? Friendship with Lily? In the end, when you make your chooses. They'll come to nothing. You'll be alone. A friendship, worthless. Oh, almost as worthless as yourself."

James breathed in that silent, cold hatred ebbing like icy, rippling spikes that court the air and tried to tear, slice, the vortex of space between the three. It was as if James could easily catch those spikes, shattering the ice so very easily in his hands.

"Problem Snivy?"

Lily's lips transforming, shock to snarl. "You arrogant piece if shit."

Nothing Lily said seemed to even scrape the surface of the protection he felt in this status, authority.

And James, with a sneer, raised his eyebrows.

Lily's rage seemed to almost foam from her being. Her eyes a wild hatred, her lips bared, her eyes monstrous; but James, James just stood and watched in an authority that could not be tainted with such anger. His focus of anger, his subtlety, that was what made him powerful in this interaction, he was in control.

"I don't think Evan's wants Snivy poo poo to kill himself. I'm not blaming her; I didn't much like getting up in the middle of the night trying to save you either."

"Pot-"

"Poor, pathetic, worthless Snivellus. Can't even kill yourself properly can you."

"Argh!"

"I bet you cut yourself. I bet you do it because you know you deserve it. Or maybe it's because your so pathetic you can't deal with the pain, the knowledge that you will always try and paw at someone else's feet begging for someone to think your worthwhile but you fucking know don't you. You'll always be worthless."

"Fuck off Potter fuck off!" Lily rocking back and forth behind the desk billowing with rage so strong, so angered. "You know nothing about him! Fuck off! He isn't worthless he's amazing and he's my best friend so fuck off!"

"When he's trying to stagger himself onto You-know-who's chess board he'll soon do away with you don't worry Evan's. He'll show himself."

"He is-!"

"Shh," James's voice, sarcastically sweet "You'll see."

And he turned, James moving away from the table, not once with a look at those black curtains of hair. Pausing at a bookcase, splitting one side of the library from the other, he tabbed it at the upmost top corner. "Nice support here if you wanna hang anything on it anytime soon."

And he walked away.

Three days since the real hatred begun.

Three days since his feelings for Lily flickered like an uncontrollable source of light, as if James was praying to keep it alive; but he knew, he knew it was out of his control now, and worst he knew he did not really mind.

Three days since the hatred of Snape; trying to kill himself. The feeling of it ripping at James like winds and waters crashing, trying to break the delicate shell of this ship that he was.

But three days since the hatred of… since… since that face… that fucking fucked up face!... that fucking….. that shitty….. that… like his face, so… those cheeks, just the thought of… touch, feel that… his…. face… so… the feeling sticking in his thought… James throat, couldn't breathe, air trapped from throat to lungs. Because it wasn't right! It was fucked up and James hated that fucking face and what it felt like and those fucking eyes… and… that fucking piece of shit!


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Lily's eyes lingered long after the robes of James had flitted around that book case. And, as Lily stared, the room begun itself to flit; in and out of focus it went and she. She tried so desperately but.

Her eyes gliding down to her hands. Small they seemed. One cupped over the other. Fingers arching as they rested on the chair back. And she closed her eyes. Something hard sticking possessively in her chest, a stone perhaps, so very heavy, so very permanent as a feature of herself. And she did not look at Severus. She did not open her eyes. She would not let anything other than her question escape. No emotion, no pain, no breath or light or dark or hatred or sympathy or suffering or pleads. No. Just that question. For those emotions ran too deep in her veins, too painful for escape. Lily found that it seemed she would not be able to express those deep grinding feelings even if she could. They were trapped, beating just beneath her skin, in every crevice of her body, but never seen above.

So, she let the question speak but not herself. She did not want herself to speak that question. She could not bring herself to speak that question.

"Sev, why did you try to kill yourself?"

The rattle, quaver, that sounded within that question was only the distant echo. The distant echo of why she said it. Why she needed to know. What it meant if he had. What it meant that he had tried. What it meant if he still felt he had to.

No answer came. But Lily knew why. The sound of his chair scrapping, the movement around the table, the footsteps away. Lily knew she would not get an answer. She knew this without opening those eyes of hers. Because as Severus walked away from her she knew, as she stood in the darkness of her own eyelids, she knew she would rather stay blind like this then open her eyes and see her best friend walk away from her like he had tried to three nights ago.

"James! Took your time! How'd the whole Lily thing go?"

James, with a smirk that did not quite capture in his eyes, looked down at Sirius as he leant back; feet propped on the table as he swung back and forth on those back two chair legs with his own smirk on his features.

"Na." James grabbing the nearest chair and swinging it back. "Like seriously what the hell does she want?" James slumped down directing his feet onto the table right at eye and paper level of Peter as he stared as blank as the parchment that was before himself. James taking a quick glance around the other side of his feet came to rest on Remus, head down in parchment as his quill glided across in neat, quick strokes.

Sirius was grinning to the ceiling, still balancing, as he threw Remus's Transfiguration book, flicking it into the air, before catching it in both palms like a clap.

"She fancy's you really." Sirius said as the book went catapulting into the air. "Of course she does, she's not stupid."

"Pfft." Was all the words that James could answer as he watched said book fall into Sirius's hands once more.

"How do you do it?" James looked round confused, Peter did not normally interrupt when the matter of Lily was the concern.

However, Peter was neither staring at Sirius or James but instead intent on Remus. Remus, aware suddenly of the three Marauder's attention upon him and only him, he slowed his quill, eyes passing from one face to the next, before stopping and sitting up.

"Hm?" He asked with that polite confusion he was so inept with.

"That!" Peter said as if what he indicated toward was so inhuman and monstrous; his hand had outstretched to the essay that Remus was quilling.

Remus looked down at his work then back at Peter. "What?"

"How do you just sit there and just… do your work? How do you physically just do your work?"

Sirius, smirking, was already back to his book throwing but still it seemed evident that the convocation was holding some of his interest.

"I don't know Wormtail." Remus began slightly confused. "I just do it. Like, if it's there I just do it."

"But…" Peter almost seemed incapable of speech as much as incapable of work. "How do you forget that there are way more interesting things in the world other than how to turn a tea pot into an oven clove?"

"Well, it is quite interesting; as you see the material has to not just change shape but substance as it has to change from porcelain to-"

"Re, this bit of dirt on the table is more interesting then what you're saying."

"No, but don't you see. Even though they are both so different the key in this Transfiguration is to remember they are both kitchen utensils."

"What?"

"And also are both things that are connected with heat."

"I can't even-"

"And if those things are kept in mind th… Sirius, what are you doing with my book?"

Sirius smirked. The book still casually flying in the air even with the addition of staring Remus.

"Just borrowing it a sec Mooney."

"What for?" Remus asked, face more calm then what that exasperated voice suggested.

"You said I could borrow it."

"You said you wanted to look something up."

"Yeah, and I'm looking at something as its going up." Sirius said this with a tone as serious as the fact that he was not going to stop throwing said book in the air.

Remus opening his mouth, eyes staring at his Transfiguration book as it flew back into the air. Closing his mouth he just stared at the book as it came tumbling done. With a side look and an expression that expressed vexation he sat there staring at Sirius calmly fling his book back toward the ceiling. And then, he just went back to his work.

"Ugh! I'm so bored!" Sirius droned, so flat and unbothered. "Fucking first years being loud little shits." Catching the book with one hand his wand flew back and one jink later four first years were quickly leaving the library covered in ever growing boils. "Jesus," Sirius continued as if nothing had changed in that library, "they're so loud and annoying. Why do they have to be so fucking loud?"

"Be right back." James pushed away from the table as he stood.

"No!" Sirius said, arm outstretched, boredom still his main form of communication.

"Toilet." James simply stated moving away with one quick stride around both his bag and chair.

"No, don't leave me James! I never meant it to end like this." Sirius's bored and sarcastic voice vibrating behind him as James walked away.

"It's too late it's over Sirius." James joked back yet entwined into that bored and smooth tone he wore within those words.

James smiling, as he graced the corner of the bookshelves, hearing Sirius mutter to Remus, "What a douche, leaving me for a toilet. I thought we had something you know."

James's glance moved to the table where Lily and Snape sat. His head then shot up completely with a realisation that neither was present. With a slight tilt in his path he moved himself through tables and chairs until reaching that table.

Then James noticed the piece of parchment on the table. Quill dripping, black ink, in small drips it fell from the tip of that quill, it slowly fell but now, now the puddle it was forming had grown. With each drip it grew larger and darker as it spread across the parchment, etching into its surface.

James glanced down at the essay. Smirk. Snape had made mistakes. James glanced up; smirk still perched upon his features, before looking back down.

Snape must have left quickly.

James glanced up again toward the door. Smirk less visible. Did James really make him leave?

He glanced back down at his work. The quills pool spluttering more of that once vividly white

parchment.

It was weird. The thought that consequences occurred outside the safety of his own being. That a word or fraise could…

His gaze intent now on the dripping quill.

How words that weren't even thought, words designed to simply help himself feel, think, enjoy. How those words could… kill.

That quill kept dripping that deep black ink. Something that was not even thought could have consequences. And with every drip, it grew into something very void of the once clean and white parchment of before. A parchment that could never be truly clean from that one ignorant, thoughtless act.

James picked the quill from the essay before him. A tap of his wand stopped its incessant drips. He then placed the quill back. And then he walked away.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"I'm not being funny but when are we ever gonna use this in our life?"

James, with a look that portrayed an almost bored plead to this situation before them as they toiled that lesson away. With a grimace added with those words as the pain in his wrist began to throb at a harsher rate, trying to grind beetles into dust was starting to grow strenuous.

Sirius seemed to be smirking to himself as he stirred his potion. With a look up toward James, an amused glint in those eyes he smirked his reply of "I know right, OWLs in chopping neatly."

The potion classroom filled with convocations, interactions, all as individual as the people who were creating them. There was laughter mixing with groans and hoarse hushed whispered voices contrasting with happy hysteria. Professor Slughorn sat before his class, an expression of almost blind indifference to the chatter and noise that vibrated in the room before him.

Remus seemed too intent on his work to even appreciate James's and Sirius's comments. His brow too furrowed as he slowly, painstakingly, tried to cut in straight neat rows.

"I can't" he muttered so quietly beneath his breath "deal with this."

"You alright Re?" Sirius asked, his expression developing into an amused yet compassionate smirk.

Remus, with a loss of capability, dropped knife on desk and buried head in hands; shaking his head in this sudden surge of frustration, a brown billowing storm formed on his head created by rushing hair flowing like waves hitting and breaking upon each another.

"I cannot deal with this anymore." Remus dissecting every syllable in that sentence and injecting instead pure anger and defeat. Revealing his dismay as he lifted a hand from his head and indicating his potion. "It's too god damn bitty and you've got to do everything right and for fuck's sake every little thing has to be perfect and intricate. Yeah that's it potions is too intricate. Who needs a fucking potion when you can just get your wand out? I bet there's a spell for every potion we have to learn."

"Re, don't have a breakdown now." Sirius droned tonelessly without a glance away from his ever stirring potion.

"Yeah," James nodded, still focus held in the beetles slow diminish from their previous form, "I can't be fucked to drag you off that table in a ball of tears at the end of the lesson after this stupid powder grinding shit."

Remus sighed, his other hand falling down. His eyes moving to the image of his friends; Sirius, illuminated in his potion and the candles glow. A soundless sigh later and he was yet again found chopping quietly, evidently trying to calm that inner frenzy surging within him.

But the grin on James's expression began to loosen. The noise around him suddenly becoming more distinct in character as a voice drifted through the wave of others.

"Interesting concoctions you have their Lily."

James's eyes, so slow and delicate they moved. His gaze leaving the confinements of his desk, potion, table. They left into the space, the world beyond. And there they fell on the person he was trying so very hard not see. For that claw, teasingly stroking his heart, had begun to break through, scraping into those thin layers of flesh, ever nearing that pounding blood which he knew would lead to every vein in his body.

For Snape stood, leaning with such ease on the table before him. That hair skirting those shallow cheeks. That nose so grotesque in its shape, so unattractive. Snape was unattractive, he was not handsome, nothing remotely alluring. Ugly Snape. And James told himself again. Ugly Snape, because James knew he had to.

Snape was sneering, peering down into the potion next to Lily. She leant upon her own desk, but her expression, she was smiling. James looked toward Snape seeing that sneer he knew so well but then, James looked as he knew he shouldn't, into Snape's eyes, and there James saw something, a smile. And James stared at that smile, those dark eyes; friendly, caring.

Yes, Snape's taunting to Lily was an inside joke between them, both knowing it as only an act. That was evident. That seemed so obvious. But what struck James so very fiercely as those eyes flickered with emotion as the two talked. What struck James was that Snape, well, he was smiling.

A sudden jerk in Snape's frame. His whole statue suddenly stood and walking and James suddenly felt like a knife had begun to beat, striking his heart like a clock but too fast for a clock. His head stood without function, like there was some deep, dark, dense mist thick and clogging but it would not lift, it would not leave. It was so obvious, so stupidly obvious. But it didn't happen and it wasn't true. It was not true and James flitted eyes toward the ceiling because it was not true and he would not look at Snape because he didn't need to, there was no reason to look at Snape because it was not true.

"No Sev, I'll get it. It's my fault my potion fucked up."

"I know blowing up cauldrons must be a hobby for you Lily as you seem to do it so often, but I don't think it would be fair for the rest of the class to be part of your antics. How many cauldrons can Lily blow up on her way to the store room?"

"You mean… person? Fine, go get my ingredients!"

There was joke in Lily's voice and James hated Lily for that voice. He wanted to break that friendliness from her because it was toward Snape and no one should speak that way to Snape, be nice to Snape. No one and he just wanted it all to shut up and stop forever and Lily never stopped being nice to him and it wasn't fair! She wasn't allowed to be nice to him! No one should be nice to him.

And James heard the movement of Snape across the classroom and there was this ache and James hated the ache because Snape had made that ache and that ache… it just kept hurting.

"Prongs, where you going?" Sirius was only a flittering entity in James's vision.

"Snivellus. Make sure Lily doesn't follow."

"Prongs! Are you ok?"

But Sirius didn't matter because everything was shattering and James didn't know where to look anymore, what to do, what to feel.

James shattered. He was in that store room. Snape picking up a jar had only just realised James's presence.

James just stood there, alone, standing in that spacious room. Snape just stood there also. But James did not see his expression. He would not look at that face. Why would he look at that face. There was no reason to look at that face.

But there was. No, no! Snape! Why Snape! Why Snape…

The first time James had directed it. Why Snape. Not skirting around but stating. Because it was true wasn't it. It was completely true. And James's eyes moved in his deadened skull, moving to the figure before him. God he looked ready, his wand was out and that defiant face he always wore. But those eyes, they held something anew. There was confusion by James's new adopted attitude and something even deeper in those eyes, fear.

And that hair, lank yes and bedraggled lay rough on that face. It was waxy, shallow, and James didn't know what and didn't know why but… but he just wanted to just touch that face.

Snape's face. No. Not Snape why Snape this isn't fair why please for fuck's sake why? It wasn't fair. Why couldn't he just stop? Why couldn't it stop? Why couldn't Snape just leave James's mind?

It really was true wasn't it. It was all true. He had feelings for Snape.

He didn't know what was happening. He didn't know why it was happening. All James knew was that hatred, hatred captured his every muscle, his every joint. And Snape was there, robes grabbed in James's hand, and James, he looked at that face, and he felt-

A fist smashing into Snape's jaw. Snape was chocking but James suddenly hating more because even though he punched that- that- Snape in the face he touched him and James wanted to touch him again and it wasn't fair because it clawed at his brain and there was no sight left and he felt this anger so deep and resonating in him and he needed to let it go, out, because the anger was clawing at him, so deep. He punched again, and again, and again.

And again.

And again.

And it wasn't fair.

The anger was dwindling away like smoke.

And James was in that room with Snape.

And he looked at Snape. So much red, so much blood. And he wanted that red to go, leave. And James still hated Snape for making him feel this but slowly this shadow subsided. This shadow, this entity protecting James couldn't survive forever. All walls fall. All hurts revel. Nothing can last forever however much we want to keep it even from ourselves. It still wasn't fair. It wasn't fair as he gazed into that blooded face, James's hand moving to support that lopsided still conscious face. It wasn't fair as he gazed into those shallow cheeks, thin features, large nose, greasy hair; it wasn't fair because even though James knew Snape was everything ugly, everything vile, it did not stop him as he gazed into that face, to look at those lips, cheeks, hair, neck, eyes; it was not fair that Snape, to James in the quiet and still, looked so very handsome.

And James's hand, moving from grabbing Snape's robes to the back of his body, supporting him there. Snape was so close, so near. Snape's semi-conscious eyes moving in and out of focus as he was held so gently by James.

And James just kept staring. And James felt his forehead touch Snape's. And he felt his forehead tilt, noses entwined. And that nose so perfect on James's as he moved it across Snape's. His head still tilting. Then, brush of foreheads, grace of nose finally became a touch of lips.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"Prongs! Seriously what's wrong?"

"Nothing, for fuck's sake Padfoot."

The fire crackled spit and flame as the Maunders sat around its glow, the common room slowly dwindling away. Sirius, with a stance forward, sat in an arm chair elbows resting on his legs and hands just below his defiant restless jaw. Remus upon the sofa and Peter upon the floor closest to the heating ebbing of the fireside as James sat within the middle of the three, next to Remus, awkward on the sofa.

"Ever since Snivellus tried to top himself you've been acting off."

James raised his eyes to the ceiling at Sirius's words. Wooden planks in a cone pointed dome criss-crossed above, weaving in and out like a tapestry with its incessant complexity. Everything always seemed to find a way of being far more complex than it ever should have been.

"Is it because you feel bad about bullying Snape?"

An accusation that could not be unnoticed. James's head spinning toward the speaker. Remus sat small, his legs tucked to his body, his eyes almost unnoticeable above the knees pressed to his face or the hair glossing over his eyes.

James conveyed a persona of disgust to the presence of this question. A persona indeed that resonated with the top most layer of his thoughts, a layer that he goaded himself to believe at least. "No of course not Re! I fucking hate Snivy. And trying to kill himself? The attention seeking little shit. Should have done it properly, one less excuse for a human in the world."

"Lily then?" Sirius with those words lay back into his chair, one leg crossing over the arm of the chair while the other hung resting still upon the floor. A side on stance that seemed to convey Sirius to becoming far more aware of the far wall rather than their close conversation.

"Yeah it's Lily." James shrugged off this answer, his fingers scrapping haphazardly upon the insides of his robes.

Sirius's head swung upward scanning the roof above, his arm swung down scrapping the thread from chair. A look of absolute boredom as he rested his back on the chair's other arm.

Remus though moved at James's answer. A twitch, then swung back a bit in his position, a look of uncertainty etched on that face before very suddenly scooping forward, legs hitting the floor he jerked suddenly in question "Can I… just say something about Snape?"

"What?" Sirius's head suddenly swinging around to look absently upon Remus. With brow lazily creased he looked at him with a slight ray of confusion, yet any real interest or motive was shrouded in its colour by the ever more prominent shade of condescending dismissal.

"Well," an almost wariness begun to vibrate in Remus as his senses suddenly become very aware of the situation that suddenly presented itself before him. "Well, with Snape-"

"Look!" Sirius's hand that had once lazily picked at the chair was suddenly up, pointing in a stark recognizable indication toward the ever more worrying Remus. Sirius's expression and more evident tone however remained at its bored state. "Lily and Snivellus are mates and, as Lily is too nice to even cope with, she's now even more angry with Prongs and about thousandth more protective of Snivellus. Therefore it's gonna be even harder for Prongs here to get her and yeah, simple? I mean I'm sorry Moony" without a single recognizable hint of an apology woven into those words "but how stupid do you have to be not see that? I mean that's a Wormtail thing not to get."

Through his explanation Sirius had been growing ever lazier. His uncaring manner manifested in his body, his hand slowly fell back down and to its continuation of thread pulling, his head moved lazily up toward the ceiling once more. James didn't seem too bothered with Peter's reaction to the last section of Sirius's tirade. Attitude far more attentive and focused on the frequent nods he omitted and the side glances to Remus of agreement to Sirius's explanations. Of course ignoring any of the very evident spiking reality stabbing viciously into his gut spluttering out terror upon wave of sickly shuddering terror.

"No I didn't mean that." Remus shaken in his frame sitting rigidly, his eyes staring transfixed with undeniable anxiety. "Listen, just… I don't think…" His breath stilting ever so slightly, tilting his head, licking his lips. He sat so very still, controlling every muscle, every twitch of eye or movement of hand. Quietly goading away those emotions that were bared for all to see in his shrieking panicked eyes. Even Sirius begun to seem concerned.

"Hay, mate." A true care emanating from those lips of his. "I'm sorry I called you thick. You're not. You're smart."

"No," Remus chest suddenly clasping with a disjuct of his frame, he suddenly looked up at his friends. He looked so worried.

"Sorry." He suddenly stood up, legs slamming the table before him. Shocked by the table he pivoted grabbing the chair behind him for support. "I'm sorry! Like, the full moon soon and I... I need to sleep." Remus was suddenly vacant from their circle.

James looked around, tilting his head at the hurrying friend as he stumbled, knocking books and quills to the floor in his wake, ever saying one fallen item after another "Sorry, sorry."

"What's up with him?" Sirius suddenly focused back to the now standing Peter. Peter himself looking startled at being directed.

"I…" He looked extremely uncomfortable as he scratched the very back of his skull. "I… erm… couldn't say."

"What's up with him?" Sirius repeated in the precise manner of before.

"He thinks you should lay off Snivellus." Peter's hand falling from his head as he spoke, bobbing on his feet he looked away.

"What?" Sirius suddenly moulding back into his seated position, elbows upon legs and hands just beneath jaw.

Peter averted all focus from any surroundings, speaking with no recognizable agreement, disagreement, thought, recognition, opinion, but stated as if reading from a text book "He's worried you, Padfoot, and Prongs are being too harsh on Snivellus. He thinks if you don't stop Snivy is gonna kill himself again and he's really pissed that after he tried to kill himself once that neither of you learnt anything from that. He was saying something about how even Professor Mcgonagall talked to you about it and you still weren't trying to change anything. Basically he's seriously worried you two are gonna push him to finally top himself properly."

The two sat in silence staring at the uncomfortable Peter moving from one foot to the next.

Sirius seemed first to become audible. "And why the fuck didn't he say that himself instead of fucking off like a coward?"

Peter shrugged, his eyes still ever averted. "I don't know. It was something about you two not wanting to hate him or something."

"Oh my god that's a good point!"

James with a sudden jump tilted his frame around, finding an excited Sirius slapping his arm. His eyes aglow with a resonating eagerness, an emotion not normally associated with him. "Full moon soon."

James, with a smile, shook his head at the excited nature of his friend. Peter, however, suddenly came into full frontal focus of the convocation. He looked, with a sort of side, unreadable expression at the two boys before him, and then turned, walking with a mutter of "Going to bed".

Sirius was back to his back upon chair arm but an adjustment of both legs hanging from that other side and hands alive with animation as he talked about the plan for next full moon.

"Padfoot?"

Sirius suddenly lost, found himself in the common room, eyes moving over to James on the sofa next to him.

"Yes?"

James, looking at Sirius, his brow creased. He moved back. Eyes searching the wall beside the fire place. A halted breath that clung to his lungs. But he needed to ask.

"That whole thing with Narcissa early?" James's head turning as he spoke. But Sirius was back, etching out that thread from sofa, eyes to the ceiling, but mouth firmly shut, eyes very dark.

"What James, what?" Sirius flung those words, an angered spitting force. He did not look away from the ceiling. Etching deeper, more extensively into that thread.

"I'm just worried about you mate."

"Oh are you?" Sirius, bobbing on that chair as if the anger was pushing him with such physical force. That head shook, his teeth began to bare, he looked toward James. Those eyes went far deeper then James's ever could know. So cold and dark and fire and steel and anger and sadness and sorrow and so very un-loved.

"You're worried are you? For poor little Padfoot?"

"Sirius I seriously care about you."

"Oh sorry I didn't realise." Feet swung round and face turned to James. He sat squarely in that chair, eyes so viscose as fire crackled within his speech. "You have no idea! Fuck off!"

"Padfoot, I care. Let's just fucking talk if it's upsetting you."

"Oh no because James Potter knows love doesn't he." Sirius head rocking so delicately, his eyes now to arching to the far floor, out of focus they clamoured, moisture ebbing in this inward state ever ever so slightly.

"Oh James Potter gets presents at Christmas and letters from his parents. Oh James Potter knows exactly what poor little Sirius Black's going through."

"Please Pad, all that shit is really affecting you. You're right I don't understand but please I can try. I'm worried about you… You can't just be cool and aloof forever."

Sirius's eyes shoot back to James. The anger so blindingly returned. He shook his head once. Stood up. Still staring toward James. Then he left. Not a glance back to his friend.

James was there. Sat on that sofa, staring into the abyss of the ever crackling fire. For something that was created to form heat and light, so much of it shrouded in deep blackness. Logs shifting as they burned away, blackened and broken from source of life. Because all we ever look to in the end is the light, at that moment when the fire is alive and thrives we don't want to see the blackness of our motives, we just want to enjoy the ebbing joy it brings. Why even glance silently to the ones we are destroying in our gain and succession?

Of course the fire would die. The flames fold onto themselves. The light, heat, gone forever. Never will that fire burn again. And all that would remain were those blackened ashes.

It was so very hard to except blackness in such a beautiful warm light.

But, as James watched as he sat alone, the logs slowly crumbling away to the stone cold floor; he looked, and he realised. However much you desire you cannot ignore that blackness, the crumbling. The flame needs to be cared for if you desire its warmth. You had to be aware of the blackness slowly destroying the flame and then take action. Rekindle, change, that was the only option, but it was an option.

Unfortunately we don't like looking at the blackness.

But James was being hypocritical.

He closed his eyes. Tongue felt so very hard in his mouth. Because he knew he was being hypocritical. It was funny how he could think of Snape, with of course that appropriate level of pain, when neither he nor his Marauder friends were around.

Maybe it was easier because James didn't think about his feelings. No, that wasn't blackening his mind. What was vivid, what was deep hard pressure that pressed so very distinctively upon his chest, was how Snape, in that deeply weakened state, had not kissed him back. What was crumbling away at his soul, so silently as he spent that day ignoring it with noise because noise was meant to drown away silence with its incessant laughs and taunts and smiles, was when James moved his head away from Snape's, for Snape's lips so solid in that interaction, his face… that face… that expression.

Yes, James tried very hard to forget that expression.

(I just want to say thank you so very very very deeply and so much about all the reviews. They are so wonderful and thank you so much for saying those things. You don't even know how much this means to me. It is so lovely of you to do this seriously. You have been so lovely and supportive and it's just amazing I did something that made you write those things. It's just so lovely and I mean that I really do. Thank you. Thank you so much.)


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

"Potter, tell me what happened."

A window must have been opened angled with a shaft of light to touch gently upon Lily's features. It streaked across her face; light glinting within that green iris, orb like, as if dabbled shades of green caressed one another, skirting each shade upon the other, held in this perfection of a circle ebbing light of that reflection.

That light gliding across her face with an effortless force touching upon that hair. It's effect of a glow, a ripple of deep glittering essence. Each hair caught by this light shone so brightly in beautiful colour. Moving, entwining within itself, with every breath she took.

As the rest of her face lay in shadow, a deep rich ebonating shadow as it was, it just contrasted with this glow, this accidental colouring of features, and as James looked he thought. How beautiful he knew this should be. However, it did seem to lack anything that could discern it so.

"Potter, stop gazing stupidly at my face and tell me what happened in that store room."

"I" James began, gaze with a shift to the door. A finger moving across that wooden surface, trying to only see the aged lines of time and not the ebbing reality of now. "punched him in the face."

"Oh did you." Her sarcasm lay rank and rancid in the air. Ebbinating a layer of malice with her words as if lava moulded its way through crakes like water, burning rather than cooling. James just kept still trying to contort his face into anything other than the grinding nature that festered within him. Yet Lily did not seem to rest in her incessant understanding. "Well, I'm so sorry Potter. My mistake. Of course you punched him in the face what was I even thinking wasting your time."

"Yeah," James nodding, lip held tight by upper teeth. "Thanks, and now if you don't mind I'm gonna go have detention for it."

Yet before even a grace of a hand upon the door frame Lily grabbed his arm. She stood there, lava still seeping from that essence. Then she said, oh so very slowly, like every word held the quality of that anger that burned out this thick ebbing lava. "Now," She stopped very slightly, as if willing herself not to break down the rock that held the volcano in place.

"Ok, what I want to know it this. Why did you punch him? Shh, let me finish. You normally jink him. You try some new funny" she almost spat funny but her sense was soon regained upon the next word she uttered "spell you learnt and you try it out and it's all a laugh and you then have a laugh with Sirius in detention together. Well, where's Sirius? Weren't in on it together? Hmm, very odd don't you think? And then of course the actual act. You physically hurt him. You actually hurt him. I mean you like to be this top of the school oh so cool joker where everyone bows to your every word but don't you think that maybe physically attacking people is a bit far? It's not like you Potter. What happened in that store room that made you punch him? Something must have happened."

James, focus on the far wall. Very intent on the criss-cross of brick upon brick. "Well," he said, an arch of a nod like a defiant little push evacuating those theories away, yet gaze still attentive on the building structure of around. "why don't you ask your little bestie then?"

Her grip loosened. James looked down. She looked up. Then very suddenly she realised her hand. "That's another thing." Her voice suddenly quick, bitty, as if a panic was sparking deep inside her. "He always tells me what you've done. Maybe not in detail but he tells me. Why hasn't he told me? What did you do?!"

James looked up to Lily's eyes. Lily's looked back glazed with worry, confusion yet mostly of all, complete ignorance.

He raised his eye brows, smiled and then said, so very calmly it seemed, "I punched him in the face."

The lava was back yet it did not skate easily over rock as before but instead bubbled in her features, her speech. "Are you fucking kidding me! Can anything important or... or _anything _get in that bloated head of yours. He tried to…" she stopped, hand skirting the air, unable to even begin to say the words "and you have done nothing about it. Nothing! Ok, maybe like twenty four hours where you were a bit edgy and was nice for once to people but that didn't last long did it? As soon as Sev came back to class you started acting shitty to him again, maybe even worse." James glancing away at the mention of his name. It seemed his stomach had acquired a taste to incessantly beat itself with seemingly thousands of butterflies upon hearing that name.

"Listen, Potter, are you seriously trying to make him… you know."

Again it seemed the wooden frame of the door held the answers to James new focus of attention.

"Evans." He said this very delicately. Like this word balanced on a pin prick. Yet still that pin was sharp as the word struck its contact. "Is someone feeling bad? After going on and on about how you feel about him being in the wrong crowd, messing with the wrong magic, suddenly your bestie tries to top himself and you're now a fucking saint waving the flag for justice."

It seemed eerily quiet then. It was as if you could hear the dust that floated in that strip of light whisper amongst themselves.

"I didn't realise he felt like that." Her tone, very flat as she spoke, yet there was that emotion that lay deep within that volcanic explosion from before that heated and kindled its fire. "But," here her green eyes looked up toward that tilted face of James still staring attentively toward the door frame. "I now know and I am trying to be a better person, a better friend. He hides it so well and you know that too. No one was expecting that. He hides it all behind sarcasm and hate and he doesn't talk about emotions so how was I to know." Then James heard it. Half way through that sentence her voice shifted like plates of the earth, jerking, and that assertion, that assurance, suddenly, vividly, became a plea.

She coughed it away suddenly. Her voice very much back to her flat tones. "Please, for me."

James, a smile that crept over his face. Turning with a slight tilt of the head, he grinned, pointing toward the door, nodding, still that grin upon his features. "Better get to detention then." The door was shut behind him before she even could reach out a hand.

Professor Mcgonagall's classroom was empty. Empty, bar the piece of parchment strewn haphazardly across her desk.

Accustomed to this form of communication, James wandered across the stone floor hearing soft taps of his feet upon floor in the silence of the walls around him.

Snape in Potions earlier that day.

Even as James issued that harsh exhale from those mirthless lips, it did not lift that heaviness that seemed to cling to that very chest. The same chest that must evidently find amusement to beat out at a faster rate whenever that stupid… when he flittered across his thoughts. Unfortunately his mind had become more accustomed to such images in present days.

He hardly saw himself pick up the parchment before him and even less aware of the words written upon its many etching yellow colours of its surface.

_Potter, _

_I have been called to an important meeting. I do not know how long I will be but when I return I do expect you to have found all the needles in the pile of hay on my desk that my First year class Transfigured today. Also Transfigure the needles back into hay ready for my other First year Transfiguration class tomorrow. When I return I will give you more work and I will not let you finish unless you have done everything._

_Professor Mcgonagall_

With a flick of a hand the note flew from his fingers. Eye lids heavy on his eyes and chest growing ever more pressured. Why didn't he like Lily anymore?

Body collapsing upon the desk before him. Eyes closed and elbows resting on that surface. His head seemed so heavy in his hands like a weight pushing him down, deep into the aged wood.

He wasn't gay. No, he didn't like Snape.

Those heavy exhales becoming audible sounds at points that stifled the air within his hands but did nothing to the heaviness of his chest.

Why did Snape come into this? James was straight. Even if his feelings for Lily subsided a little, they can grow again, they will grow again. Yes, start liking Lily again and it will all be fine, all perfect, nothing ever to be concerned with again.

He was doing a shit job at that though.

Head collapsing in hands, fingers ruffling through hair.

He really was doing a shit job. She just kept talking about Snape and Snape should just fuck off from this. It just wasn't fair. No, it wasn't right, it was weird. No, it wasn't true. He did not have feelings, no, none whatsoever. Why would he have feelings for that, that…

James, moving head from left to right, trying to find words degrading enough but… there really weren't any were there.

But Snape was ugly and disgusting and vile and James was very straight and liked girls and will eventually start liking Lily again and it will be ok again and none of this nonsense, none of it will ever flit through his subconscious again.

Knock knock.

James's head did not move. A sudden shock to reality, maybe, but it was probably a student handing in late homework. They'll just put it on the desk and fuck off.

The door behind him creaked open as James went to looking lazily at the opposite wall to him, his back still to the door.

No footsteps however. Little first year frightened of a big scary student. James, smiling to himself for this granted importance for purely being older, decided to turn to help said child to make the difficult distance across the big stone floor and up toward the desk before him.

"Just put it on the desk she's in a mee-fuck."

The fact that he swore quite loudly at the person standing stock still in that doorway didn't really help. It certainly did not make said person evaporate into nothingness which would have been the most helpful scenario at that point. In fact it probably just helped to create this vividly excruciating atmosphere that clung to the room because, well, he never really cared for that hate filled sneer that Severus Snape was always far too happy to give him, even if it meant that he had to then stand in that doorway for only slightly longer to give it.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

The air was stiff, isolated, hardened. It seemed strange how little James could breath, think even, over this pressure. This harsh nature that clung to the air for James could feel every cell in his body held in place, silenced, inescapable of any movement or motion. He was there, in this hardened horrific pressure of air and body and yet he wasn't. For it seemed distant, amiss from this situation. All James seemed aware of was Snape.

In the doorway he stood. Still and silent just for that moment. A late essay held in his hand. The black of his school robes flittered in the doorway. Maybe from that window from before but maybe from each of his breathes. That rise and fall in his chest. It seemed faster than usual.

James, with a glance, caught his face for that second. That second. It seemed strange how a face could look so unlike attraction and yet be something on the verge of the very essence of perfection. For every odd angle of light, from shallow cheek to irregular feature, just seemed to merge as one becoming something only Snape had, something that was only truly Snape himself.

"Just on the desk then?" And then the pressure clawed its way back; away from Snape, away from James, away from emotion as Snape spoke those words.

James did not respond. He just stood, still leaning upon the desk behind, staring at nothing, feeling that presence emanate in the silence between them.

James trying not to hear the footsteps walking across the stone floor. He did not see the shadow that flittered across his view for he would not see it. The stones were enough, the stones with the edges of time and-

Snape had not left.

Head turned and Snape was just there. Leaning on the wooden frame of the blackboard. Staring, with those dark absorbing eyes toward James.

The kiss from yesterday sprung, contorting James's mind. James would not look at Snape's expression. There was no kiss from yesterday. James did not like Snape. James would not look at Snape's face. Why would he look at Snape's face? Just look down, anywhere. Snape's fingers wrapped around his arm. So pale upon his black robes. So thin they seemed, wrapped so tightly around his limb. Every joint, edge, bent so perfectly. They looked so stiff though, so strained under a pressure of an emotion within him. James just could not bare those fingers to feel that pain from somewhere else in that body. He just wanted those fingers to be happy, to leave such emotion behind for he could not bare such emotion to be a part of such a perfect thing.

The hand shifted. James looked away.

A blank stare to the door, still leaning upon that desk. The door continued to remain shut. It seemed to be finding it easier to endure this silent air which screamed every tiny action and every past motive.

"So…"Snape, with a long extended value to those words, crystallized the thick clogging air. Diamond though it was it still possessed on James's ears that cutting sensation of its sharp slashing quality, a quality that Snape's voice seemed to hold in those recent days.

A sharpness that cut James's senses to a more vivid reality. "There's the door." A soft slice of words with extended hand action in addition to help Snape to fully understand these helpful instructions.

Snape, however, seemed far from taking instructions. "Yes, that is indeed a door."

James, hand moving from table to face, keeping in this emotion while pretending to scratch his forehead. For there seemed to be a dial within James slowly increasing, pushing the room itself into a more heightened state. Snape's voice, however. There was something different in his voice.

Head turned. Snape unmovable from that frame, still hand around arm and still very much staring at James with those black, almost hidden by hair, curtained eyes.

James looked away. It wasn't fair. No, stupid brain thinking, seeing too deeply. No, no, why would James care, he didn't care there was no reason to care, he did not care, James had no emotional reaction to the fact that Snape, and that stupid fucking little face that doesn't fucking stop staring at him, didn't in any way look attracted to James. No, no, relief! Defiantly relief because James would be disgusted if he saw Snape staring at him like he fucking liked him or something because James did not like Snape and there was nothing in anything he thought or said or did or how he may for a second interpreted Snape's voice with its lack of malice to maybe mean that Snape liked James but no thank god because it didn't and everything is ok.

Everything is fine.

James stared at the door. Biting his lip. Feeling something cling deep behind his rib cage.

"Maybe," James voice thick with malice, sarcasm, yet seemingly suppressed into a tiny pin prick of a voice, almost a whisper in that silent room. "you should use said door."

"Well, you see I was wondering if anything else interesting might happen if we spent long enough in the same room together alone. I must admit I was very surprised by our last little… experience shall we call it."

Of course the sneer, twisting, entwining in Snape's every word. Festering, as if for only a game, to gouge its way into James's brain contorting his once healthy vision. For James knew he could not cope with Snape's voice full of the resonation that it carried before that day this sick little thought begun to multiply; but James could cope even less with this new, void of the malice of before, voice that spoke with Snape's sneer.

"What are you talking about?" James, chocking on words, laughter that smouldered on pain. Snape was stupid. What was he talking about?

"Oh, must be used to things like that I suppose. Shall I remind you? I can go into detail you like."

Laugh admitted from James, yet less so a laugh. A laugh held some light to it.

His eyes seemed burnt from some fire that ground on deep within him. Restless it ground on and on. The thick smoke clogging, chocking his lungs. So deep and heavy it chocked. His bones seemed tainted by this black mist. Heavy so very heavy, his fingers felt the heat of the blaze as they seemed to turn slowly to ash beneath his skin. Snape's voice was sarcastic yes but the extent of the malice from before was gone. Why was it gone?

It didn't happen. What happened in that store room didn't happen. Snape shouldn't be acting differently because nothing happened. Snape was so stupid to be acting differently when nothing had happened.

"Nothing happened."

James could hear Snape shift his position after James spoke those toneless words. Everything was flat, inept of emotion for those emotions within him, so breaking they seemed, could not be real because James did not like Snape.

Every movement Snape made, every breath he took, every syllable that mouth spoke; it conjured something too wonderful, so beautiful. It was like a light that dabbled the smoke in James body. A light that allowed air, allowed freedom, allowed James's fingers to feel less deadened and ash filled and therefore seemingly allowed them the need to just gently touch that cheek of Snape's.

James didn't like Snape so obviously those emotions were not true. So James ignored them as having no emotion was truer than those emotions.

"Why do you keep saying that?" That glistening essence of a voice asked from James's left. The fire began to ground its course, flaming into James's chest. Burning with the fury because nothing happened. "Nothing happened."

"Yes it did."

The fire seemed to begin tearing through James's rib cage. It was hurting. It was physically hurting. The smoke from those flames clogging his throat, lungs. Hardly breathing. Hardly seeing through the flames.

"Nothing happened."

"Potter, you kis-"

"NO I FUCKING DIDN'T!"

And James was staring at his face. And he saw him. And suddenly he lost everything.

The fire suddenly gone for suddenly Snape's features focused through that anger. That tilt of jaw unhidden by hair. So smooth it skirt its course caressing that thin face in a frame. The harsh features softening as if blurring anything unnecessary, anything unattractive for that didn't matter. Not when James could just stare, with this pureness that moulded within his chest, at all those handsome features.

Snape's face suddenly fear to confusion.

James suddenly drenched by another emotion. Why did James feel that? How could he feel that? The aching beginning once more within James's frame.

"Are you ok Potter?"

"Why wouldn't I be Snivellus?"

James had found himself in front of the desk facing Snape rather than away toward the door. No recollection of movement. Only that memory of that searing blaze of fire engulfing all thought. James must have moved in his anger and suddenly lost all anger and stopped upon seeing Snape's complexion.

Snape, rather than leaning on the frame now stood, wearingly watching James's movements. James watched back, different reasons.

Why did Snape have to look so handsome?

James could feel this ache. It seemed hollow, desolate within those fragile bones of his rib cage. It was as if that fire suddenly smouldered, died, from a wave of water. All that was left was the smoke. Heavy achy smoke still clogging his body, absorbed only by his ever increasingly heavy limbs.

All for simply liking someone. It did seem strange when uttered like that. It didn't matter he was a boy. No, it didn't matter that it was someone he used to hate.

This then shifted James's eyes. Up, out, around him. Toward Snape. Those dark eyes touching his. Snape's eyes held no attraction toward James.

No, this was wrong. This was weird. The smoke leaving that burnt fire, absorbed only by his flesh and bones, leaving this empty space, desolation of nothing. James never wanted to feel anything. For his feelings were wrong. That was the only truth.

"Potter, I'm going to be honest with you."

Still silence lay within James's frame. He just stared, emotionless, bones, skin heavy from the ache of that fire.

Snape shifted in his frame, uncomfortable by this stare perhaps. Yet he continued. Continued with the tone of before. Void of malice. "I'm not here to taunt you. I want to know why."

"Why what?"

Snape, James was sure, would have contorted to anger before. Maybe he caught something within James's voice. Maybe that essence of vacant emptiness. For Snape himself seemed to recognize it. He did shift his position, eyes slowly moving upon James's face. James himself trying to dissolve the twists of affection festering in his stomach at this intensity.

Maybe this was the reason that Snape responded with "Ok, nothing happened."

James suddenly still. Light in his chest. His body suddenly allowing ash to evaporate. Still that heaviness lay but his body, his heart, seemed to breathe if even only slightly.

James could allow this to happen couldn't he? This lightness of touch that Snape gave. It didn't mean anything. He still had no feelings for Snape. He still hated Snape. This now awareness of the pace of his heart that thundered within his chest, creating this circle of warmth in that place, embracing all mass within him, that didn't mean that James had feelings for Snape. It was all just fine.

"Yeah, it's just hypothetical." Snape's voice rang through the now slowly gaining layers of warmth inside James's body. "It didn't happen."

"Yeah, yeah." It was like James was now allowed to gaze at that beautiful face. It glistened like a reflection, simmering this image he knew so well, but in such a new and beautiful concept.

"Why do you keep looking at me like that?"

It was like the image suddenly shifted, disturbed by another force.

"Like what?"

"Hypothetically! Why do you hypothetically look at me like that?"

Yet James's new found wariness did not quite leave. "I don't know."

"Also, hypothetically, why would you kiss me?"

"Hypothetically?" James body still ridged yet Snape's corporation, tone of voice, seemed somehow settling.

"Yeah, hypothetically. I mean," Snape's tone shifted. James looking up, into those dark eyes, a search. His voice seemed tinged with something. Oh, that was what lay deep within Snape's thought. Subtle yet still Snape was scared. "did you because of some joke? Dare?"

"I don't think so."

Snape still shifting, flittering of some suppressed and hidden emotion behind those eyes. "You were trying to mess with my head then?"

"I don't think I would have gone that far just to torment you."

"No; you wouldn't would you."

Then Snape's words left nothing but silence. Absence of any sound. Yet the room was speaking on a level so large only the beginning of this very convocation could compare. Yet this silence was so very different. It felt so very much purer.

"If I-" Snape, as if caught by his very words, silenced himself. Looking still with that tinge in his eyes.

"Hm?"

"If I-" again he stopped but something within James's look must have allowed the next words to fall from those lips. "If I kissed you now what would you do?"

"What?" All went blank. Well, all but something within his chest.

"Hypothetically."

"I don't know why would you do that?"

"In this hypothetical world you had already kissed me."

Very erringly blank. Very aware of his arms. Very aware of his breath, how it beat fast within his throat. "Do you fancy me in this hypothetical world?"

"No."

An emotion twisted within James's chest at Snape's reply but he was far too blank to register what it meant. All he could give was the reply of "Why would you kiss me then if you didn't fancy me?"

"The same reason you did maybe."

"I don't think so."

"Why did you do it?"

"It doesn't matter."

"It does."

"Why didn't you tell Lily?"

"What?"

"She was asking me before I started detention about it and she doesn't seem to know."

"I- She doesn't need to know."

"You could have taunted me. You could have told the whole school."

"It didn't happen remember."

Silence.

James could not answer what Snape had just said.

Snape looked back.

James could not bare to see his face.

Snape spoke, "If I kissed you now what would you do?"

And James turned. Head to the side, facing far from Snape. Looking toward the floor. James replied, for this was true, for he did not want to think about it so "How would I know." how James would react if ever Snape kissed him.

Then James, head still toward the floor, felt a presence approaching him.

A weird panic. He wanted him closer but no, please not closer. No no closer.

"No I can't."

James looked up. Snape was there. Staring at James's features.

"No, no, I can't." Snape repeated. His head shaking. Something in those eyes. James stood up properly. He knew that pain. He had seen it once before. That day Snape woke up from trying to end his life.

Snape seemed aware. Trying to shift this pain away from notice.

James just leaned forward. His hands placing themselves upon Snape's frame. "It's ok. I don't mind."

Snape's head tilting, looking James in those eyes of his.

"I don't want to kiss you, Potter."

"You don't have to."

Finding themselves stepping closer.

Snape still staring. His mask breaking, trying to hold it together, yet it was breaking.

This pain, tainting James. That face. Please don't feel like that.

Arms, feeling the essence of Snape. Moving around. Holding that frame. Anything to comfort, to protect because that pain was too harsh and James didn't want Snape to feel such harshness.

A hand around waist, a hand within hair. Snape was still staring, trying to hold it back.

"I don't want to kiss you." That voice whispered.

"You don't have to, as long as you're ok you never have to do anything again."

Snape, leaning onto that hand on waist, head almost caressing James's hand back.

"I like you holding me like this."

"I like holding you like this too."

Then Snape smiled. Suddenly, like this allowance of emotion was made, pain just suddenly released. Snape trying to look down, anywhere other than James.

No, please don't feel sad.

James suddenly pulling him closer. Holding him.

"It's ok, it's fine, I promise. I promise."

Snape's sudden weight. His arms suddenly held about James's body. Snape's face eased within James's shoulder and neck.

His body so heavy as he just hang there, holding on to this presence that James gave, as James himself, one arm still wrapped about his waist, as the other slowly stroked into Snape's dark hair.


End file.
